


Carry On For Us

by RisuAlto



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [5]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21614878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisuAlto/pseuds/RisuAlto
Summary: Sometimes, when she was caught up in the extravagance of being Whitestone nobility with dinners and negotiations and trades, it was easy for Vex to forget.
Relationships: Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia, Vax'ildan & Vex'ahlia (Critical Role)
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548286
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Carry On For Us

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt was, "It's All My Fault," for the Bad Things Happen Bingo.
> 
> Title is from ["Shelter"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQnC1UHBvWA) by Porter Robinson, which is funny, because I actually think of that song as more of a Scanlan post-leaving VM song. But it works here, too, I suppose.

Sometimes, when she was caught up in the extravagance of being Whitestone nobility with dinners and negotiations and trades, it was easy for Vex to forget. Sometimes, she’d be held up by the simpler pleasures, like burying her face in Trinket’s fur, or taking him for a hunt in the Parchwood, or polishing blades with Cassandra, or acting as an extra pair of hands and eyes for Percival in his workshop, and it wouldn’t hurt so much.

And then there were the other times, when Keyleth would visit and look particularly melancholy when she thought no one could see, or when the benevolence of Pelor’s favor weighed too heavily on her chest, or when Vex would catch sight of her scars in the mirror and look for the one that should be there for how deep it cut. The one from magic necromancy, from the sunken tomb, from the moment her brother signed his soul away, _all for her._

How, she wondered, tracing fingertips over the skin above her heart, was _that_ the injury that didn’t leave a mark? When it had taken so much, _from all of them_ , how was it practically invisible, only noticeable in the absence of her other half, their missing piece?

There was no denying that her brother’s death had left a hole in their group, but Vex’ahlia often felt like the hole was inside of her, endlessly draining from within her body until she would have nothing left to give. And as that grief consumed its fill, it grew heavier and heavier and _heavier_ until Vex was sure it had jarred all other feeling from her.

She felt her knees hit the carpeted floor. The pain was dull, just waves of force from the impact since she had managed to get partially dressed before the feelings caught up with her, but it was barely there compared to the agony of being left behind sometimes. Of being the reason Pike lost her fun-buns partner; the reason Scanlan and Grog lost the one who best understood their bullshit humor; the reason Percival lost _another_ brother; the reason Keyleth lost the person she loved the most.

Here she was, living in a palace with a title and more gold than she could ever reasonably spend, not to mention her friends and the man she loved and a real _future,_ when it was her greed and carelessness that had taken Vax from them all.

Like a summoning spell, thinking the name had all her emotions pouring out, spilling from her in quick, heavy sobs.

“Vex?” The voice came from behind her, and Vex was sure it was Percival, even through the roaring in her ears. His footsteps came up behind her, followed by his hands on her still-bare shoulders. “Vex, what’s wrong?”

“It’s all my fault,” she gasped, curling into herself, arms wrapping around her middle. The blouse she’d meant to pull on fell to the ground as she moved, jerking forward out of Percival’s touch. “He’s gone, and it’s all my fault!”

“Oh.” The warmth settled back on Vex’s shoulders, and she felt Percival move closer behind her. He spoke softly, gently pulling Vex back and turning her towards him, into his chest. “Oh, Vex, you can’t blame yourself. We both know nothing could have stopped him from making the choices he did. I don’t blame you. Keyleth doesn’t blame you. And if your brother was here—”

Reflexively, Vex breathed in, feeling her heart almost stop at the words. She tried to pull back, to snap away from the softness of Percival’s sleep shirt against her cheek and the warmth of his arms around her back and the gentleness of his words in her ear, but he held fast. Tighter, even.

“If Vax was here,” he continued slowly, “he’d think of helping Vecna ascend before he’d think of blaming you.”

And, reasonably, Vex _knew_ that. But the calm that settled over her was more one of numb exhaustion than absolution. She just shook her head.

Percival took her face between his hands, blue eyes pleading for a way in, and in that soft but fatally serious tone, he whispered, “You’re not at fault for surviving. You’re _not_. The only fault you can commit is refusing to live _on_.”

Vex blinked, and images of the shell Percival had been when they met and what he had become clinging to his ghosts flashed before her. Of course he would understand, and if she and Vox Machina had helped him find his way, then Vex was sure she could do it, too. Somehow. But for now, all she could manage was to nod and to bury herself in the comfort of a hug, trying to figure out how to breathe through the pain.

**Author's Note:**

> Elsewhere, Trinket: _Shit, mom needs a hug._


End file.
